Flirty Fun


Dangerously flirtatious I’d say :slight_smile:


Great that’s what I was going for thanks haha


Added to my reading list :slight_smile:


interesting way to advertise books without braking rules hihi clever :smiley:


Wow I am honored


Shh that’s the secret of these forums lol


Definitely has that push/pull vibe which is always fun.

There’s a new tv show about spies called “Whiskey Cavalier” that has this type of thing happening. Might be worth checking out if you enjoy that action/Romance blend.

The first excerpt’s last line confused me a bit. Maybe edit that one.


This is from a different story. Millie is an assistant in the commercial department of a talent agency, and an aspiring screenwriter. Fin is a huge star on a period drama (he’s British) and he’s come to the office for a meeting with her boss. Fin requested that Millie join in on the meeting. I’ve aimed to keep the style of this story a bit more sparse, more in style of a screenplay, with mostly dialogue and stage direction/blocking. It starts with Millie’s boss Eric speaking. ~~~~~

“So… I was thrilled when you decided to do this job for the History Channel. I will give credit where credit is due and admit that Millie actually was the one to suggest we reach out to you. I wasn’t sure if you would have the time or the inclination for such a small job.”

Fin sits in the chair next to me. He tucks my book on the seat beside him and crosses his legs, resting his ankle across his knee. The motion stretches his khakis tight across his thigh. He adjusts his leg and it brushes against mine slightly. He turns toward me with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

I look into his eyes, which are even better close up. They look like black coffee. They fill my stomach with heat the way a cup of coffee would too. I don’t move my leg away. “It’s fine.”

Fin smiles wider and his eyes crease. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right Millie?”

I nod. Eric clears his throat and stands to make himself a plate. Fin turns to address him.

“Well Eric, it all fit perfectly. Obviously a marathon of documentaries and classic films about the Crusades makes sense for me to introduce. I’ve actually seen most of the ones they’re showing, having watched them when I had to gen up for my Templars audition. Plus, my Mum is a history teacher, so she loved the idea. And the timing was right since I’ll be in New York all summer.”

Eric sits down and points to Fin with a piece of cantaloupe on his fork. “That’s right… you’re doing Shakespeare in the Park this summer. Cymbeline? Correct?”

Fin nods. “I’m playing Posthumus. It’s quite blinding really. Theatre is where I got my start. And as much as I love working on Templars, I miss the energy of the stage… the immediacy of the audience… it’s very genuine and pure.”

Then he sips his tea and pulls my book out from beside his leg. “Which brings me to this…”

I reach my hand out to take it, but Fin doesn’t let go. We both grip the paperback. It builds a bridge between us.

“I’ve accepted the role of Clov in a special one night presentation…”

I finish his sentence. “… of Endgame at BAM?!”

Fin shows off those magnificently imperfect teeth again. “Precisely!”

He cocks his head as he appraises me. “It’s been very hush-hush. The press release is going out today though.”

Eric’s fork clatters on the plate as he puts it down. “How did you know about it Millie?”

I turn away from Fin to answer Eric. “Holden auditioned for it over a week ago. He borrowed my book to prepare and when he came in to sign those contracts this morning, he returned it. That’s why it was on my desk. He said they cast a big name…”

I turn to Fin again. “I didn’t know it was you.” I pull the book a little closer to me.

He tugs gently on the book bringing it closer to him again. “Well if he’s done with it, can I borrow it Millie?”

I let go and smooth my skirt across my lap. My hand accidently brushes Fin’s leg and I feel the heat in my stomach build. My fingers are so close to his thigh and it makes the heat travel down between mine.

“I’m not sure why you would want to. It didn’t bring Holden any luck. Besides I’m sure you have your own copy already.”

Fin taps my book on his legs. "Well I am a jammy bastard and already have the part, so while I need no luck there… " He doesn’t finish his thought as he opens the cover. “And certainly I have my own copy, but I’m very keen to have a shufti and read all the scribblings you have in the margins here.”

Fin gradually drags his finger down the side of the page and looks back up at me with those delicious eyes. I’ve never wished to be a piece of paper before, but today I do. Now my mouth and my panties are wet. I swallow. “You can keep it if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll gladly return it.” He smirks and snaps it closed. “In fact, I’ll give it back to you in a fortnight when you’re my guest at the performance.”

While this feels very flirtatious, surely he means it as a professional invitation. My body is purely reacting because he’s so handsome and I’m starving at this point in my love life. Besides, I can’t imagine that this celebrity sex symbol would be asking me, an assistant at his agency, out in front of my boss. It would cross too many lines. Then again, why does he want to network with an assistant? I should politely decline just so there won’t be any misunderstanding. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of one of RAA’s hottest clients.

I open my mouth, but Eric is already answering for me. “Of course she’ll go. You were a theatre major weren’t you Millie?”

I correct him. “Dramatic Literature.” But I don’t correct the fact that I would have said no five seconds ago.

Fin leans down and puts my book into his bag. He pauses with his hand still pressed inside to look up at me. “Perhaps I should offer you two seats? So you can bring a date?”

His face hovers just above my knees. I’m struck with another wave of desire as he looks exactly like my erotic dreams made flesh. Well maybe not exactly. There were fewer clothes on him in my head. I’m glad I moisturized my legs this morning as my body heat is strengthening the scent of the vanilla lotion.

“One is fine. I don’t have a boyfriend.” I rub my foot along the back of my calf and squeeze my knees together tightly.

Fin looks down at the motion as he pulls out the ticket. “Brilliant!”


This is from a recent little story I am writing with a friend of mine, featuring the MC the human and his girlfriend Sarah the vamp

“You okay?” Sarah asks. “Did I take too much?”

Fighting back against the weight of fatigue, I open my eyes. Sarah Kimball, chin dripping with blood and fangs extended, looks down at me as I rest my head in her lap. The moonlight sparkles across her pale skin and makes her eyes glow a light blue. I smile up at her, she smiles back at me.

“No…No, I’m okay.” I tell her with a yawn.

“No you’re not,” She replies. “Look at how drowsy you are. Damn it, you’re in no condition to be travelling across dimensions now.”

“Sarah, I’m…I’m fine,” I lift myself up slightly by my elbows, only to be struck by a train of lightheadedness and fall back once more. “Uggghhh…See? Totally fine.”

Sarah wraps her arms around me and squeezes me in a hug. “We’ll have to wait at least another hour for you to rest up and get your strength back.”

“Ugggggghhhhhh” I groan. “You worry to much. Just let me get to my feet and I’ll be fine.”

I struggle against Sarah’s grip for a moment, but quickly find myself tired and out of breath. Her arms are two chains, locked together in a vice grip around me. My captor stifles a laugh as she keeps me pinned to her lap. “Aww, my poor, weak little baby.”

“I am not weak,” I reply with a laugh. “I am just…incapacitated.”

“Riiiiiight,” Sarah says, smiling down at me. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“I swear to God, Sarah, I will fight you!” I raise my fists into the air, mimicking a boxer’s stance. “I’ll do it, I’ll come over there.”


These two are so playful! I love that she’s the vampire and that he’s trying so hard not to rely on her strength after she fed from him. These two are cute. A very smiley intereaction leads to a very smiley reader. :slight_smile:

From: The Greatest Obsession, “Chapter Twenty-Two: The Libra & The Aries.”

Context: Elijah and, his vampire friend, Haydn, who will eventually become his lover, share a fun night in late August, 1885.

A nasal-like chuckle passed through Haydn. Squinted eyes burned into Elijah’s face and caused him to blush uncharacteristically. The tawny-haired man drew up on his elbows after setting his book on Elijah’s lap. “You dare to make a joke of my feelings, child?” he asked with a playful undertone.

“Dare? I already did, old man.”

“Do you know any old man so flexible, handsome, and inviting as me?”

Elijah smiled. “Abraham. Besides, you are far more cranky than any old man I’ve ever met.”

Haydn slapped Elijah’s cheek with lighthearted force. He laughed at the human, and it wasn’t his usual small one or a shake of the shoulders but a boisterous laugh that was almost adolescent. “The patriarch has a young, gay, and polite attitude at times from what I’ve seen of him. To me, he is not but an infant compared to my true age.”

“If he is an infant, then what am I?”

Haydn sat up. With one hand pressed into the red wine colored coverlet that was decorated in metallic satin roses, he tapped the nail of his index finger under Elijah’s stubbled chin. The smell of cool oranges wafted into his nose. Haydn looked down at him with richly bright eyes and puckered lips. “If Abraham Snow is an infant, you, my dear, are a fetus in the womb.” He tilted his head to the left, examining the youthful Homosapien casually as if he were a piece of art in a museum. He leaned forward, just enough to see Elijah’s eyes widen and dart at the vampire’s nude lips. The tiny smile that appeared on Haydn’s face was completely adoring. “But enough about my age. You’ll know it in time. Little Fetus, come braid my hair for me. You don’t need to say whether you like my hair or not for I know that you like it and would love nothing more than to touch it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Do not lie and say you cannot braid, because I witnessed you expertly weaving your fiancée’s hair last week.”

[Elijah braids his hair and when he goes to get a rubber band to tie it, Haydn tickles his leg]

“I ought to have a mind to rip that braid to shreds!”

“Oh, hush, startled lamb, I only meant to play with thee. Does a tickle ruin thy fancy of me?”

“It does, actually,” said Elijah, crossing his arms. “I’ve never enjoyed being tickled.”

The vampire raised his brows and let out a moan as if he’d just tasted something arousing. “If done lightly, the sensation can be thrilling.”

“And how would you know this?” Elijah asked, cocking his head.

“Did you think me a virgin?” Haydn inquired, surprised.

Elijah gawked, not quite sure what to say.

“Your lack of response says it all,” Haydn chortled. He shook his head with the most dashing smile, his blue eyes downcast on the blanket. He stood from the bed, stretched his arms and lifted onto his tiptoes. Fiddling with the braid, the vampire extended a hand to Elijah. His appearance was warm, almost sexual like an adolescent girl flirting with her crush. His upper body twisted left to right and Elijah just stared at his very tall and thin form.

This is a man, he reminded himself, why is he so seducing? Why does he sway and let his eyes look at me so playfully and without innocence? “Haydn, you are simply scandalous.” Elijah swung his legs off of the bed but kept his buttocks firm on the mattress.

“I won’t deny it,” sighed the tunic-clad man, “but you’ve stroked my ego by lingering your gaze at me and chewing your lip. Did you know it?”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were. Accept it. Take my hand, dear boy.”

“Why?” Elijah was so quick to let the cool hand cover his own.

Haydn smiled and said nothing, pulling the lad to the window and onto the roof.

The wind was light, breezy and the leaves whistled in the trees beside the house. Haydn led the human to a space easy enough for Elijah to climb. “We are always in your room. Why not spend some time on the roof?”

The displeasure in Elijah’s body language was evident by the huffing and the puffing, the wandering eyes, and the tiny groans that mumbled out of him. “What is there to do? This isn’t a townhome. One does not lounge on slanted shingles for fun.”

“I do,” Haydn said, looking back.

“Well, that makes sense because you are of a peculiar sort.”